"Why, yes, Grace, I do believe it is."
The blonde rolled her eyes before plucking the bolt from the bin and pulling it into her arms as she turned to face them.
"Mrs. Cooper, Mrs. Williams, how good to see you again." Rebecca rather liked Mrs. Cooper and had always gotten on well with her, but Mrs. Williams, the minister’s wife had most certainly always been a thorn in Rebecca’s side. You old bat. You say one word about Charlie and I will……
"You, too, Mrs. Gaines. Tell us, what brings you to town?" Mrs. William’s asked, with a raised disapproving brow.
"A buggy." She said in all seriousness, never breaking eye contact with the minister’s wife. Mrs. Williams had only made their strained relationship worse by commenting in mixed company about Rebecca’s failure to get pregnant within the first year of her marriage. The woman had implied that somehow Rebecca was less of a woman because of it and, coupled with the way her marriage was going, it was just one more thing that made her feel like property.
"Yes, we saw it being driven away by that," she paused, crinkling her nose as if she smelled something distasteful. "Man."
"Oh you mean Colonel Redmond. Colonel Charles Redmond?"
"Rebecca Gaines, do not dare tell us you are on a first name basis with him."
She ran her hand over the soft linen in her hands. "Why, yes. Yes I am." She watched as the disapproving looks crossed their faces. "And I must say, he is one of the most charming men I have ever met."
She thought they were going to swallow their tongues as the shock began to register. She realized that Charlie was not the only one with an evil streak. She knew she should stop but she just could not.
"He is also a fine horseman and he has a beautiful voice for reading poetry. If you ladies will excuse me?" She brushed past them, moving to the counter where Mr. Cooper was boxing up her purchases. "Mr. Cooper, this partial bolt, how much would you want for it?"
He looked at the fabric. "Well I suppose I could let you have it for, let us say five cents. It is an old bolt."
She placed it next to the box running her hand over it. "I think he will love it." She murmured.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing, Mr. Cooper. I forgot to put it on the list, would you happen to have any cinnamon?"
"I think I might have some around her somewhere. Going to do a little baking, Mrs. Gaines?"
"I am thinking about it." She smiled, then turned to the ladies. "Colonel Redmond is very fond of baked apples."
"If you do not mind my asking, Mrs. Gaines," Mrs. Cooper came up beside her. "What is it like having all those soldiers on your land."
"It was most certainly unnerving when they arrived, but even in these two weeks, I have grown quite accustomed to them being there. As a matter of fact, Colonel Redmond and his men will be wintering on my land. They will be here for several months."
"And I suppose," Mrs. Williams piped up even though Rebecca wished she had swallowed her tongue. "We will have to put up with them coming into town and taking what they want."
"Not at all, Mrs. Williams, Colonel Redmond is a very careful of his men. He will make sure they do not bother you."
"Rebecca," Mrs. Cooper whispered, looking around to make sure no one could hear her. "You are all right, are not you? You are not being forced……"
"Oh, no! Colonel Redmond and his men have been perfect gentlemen. They have even been helping me get Gaines Cove back into order."
"You are taking assistance from Yankee rabble?"
"Mrs. Williams, I figure it was the Yankees that did this to us. Why should they not fix it?"
"Cannot argue with that." Mr. Cooper snorted as he began writing Rebecca’s bill.
"I suppose they have been in your house."
"Several of them, several times. And if you must know, the Colonel and I dine together every night. Is there anything else you would like to know or do you have enough to put through the rumor mill?"
"Why I never……!" The older woman turned on her heal and stormed from the store.
"That is not what my overseer used to say." Rebecca mumbled.
Mr. And Mrs. Cooper burst out laughing. Rebecca just shook her head.
"Now, Rebecca," Mrs. Cooper laid her hand in the blonde’s arm in a motherly fashion. "It is all right to tell us. Are you really safe?"
"I am very safe, Mrs. Cooper. I promise you." She placed her hand on the other woman’s, giving it a tiny squeeze. "If I were not fine I would tell you and ask for help. Colonel Redmond and his men really have been perfect gentlemen. But thank you for being honestly concerned for my well being and not just looking for things to gossip about like that old hen." She jerked her chin in the direction Mrs. Williams had just departed.
"Oh, I cannot guarantee I will not gossip, but at least I can gossip about the truth."
"That is all I ask. You know if she has the chance to tell her version of it, I will be at the mercy of every soldier on my land."
"She does seem to remember things in her own unique way."
--*--
While Rebecca was meeting the social challenges of her little community, Charlie drove on to the area that Jamison had described as the colored town. He was greeted with a vision of a small clutch of shacks, patched together from whatever scrap was available, with raw sewage running in open gutters and gaunt figures already huddling over small fires because they did not have enough clothing for even this mild November day. The wind had picked up a bit since he had set out with Rebecca and gray clouds were starting to scud in from the northeast. He made a mental note to himself that this situation would have to be cleaned up or there was a chance of serious illness, as well as unrest and petty crime.
He stopped in the middle of the little town within a town and announced in his best field commander’s voice, "I am looking for some folk. I need a cook, a ladies maid, a housekeeper, and a general handyman." Immediately, virtually every able-bodied adult was lined up in front of him, looking hopeful.
"All right. Cooks first." Four women stepped forward and he quickly interviewed each of them. One young woman was a standout. Sarah had been an assistant cook for the Gaines household before Rebecca’s marriage. She had then been sent to the Washington household of a distant cousin of the late and unlamented Mr. Gaines to finish her training, and combined the skills of a traditional southern cook with some of the latest French styles. Her older sister, Beulah, had obviously been a big woman until the shortages of the war forced her to trim down. But she still had the muscle and solid build that Charlie associated with a good housekeeper, mostly because the mammy in his own childhood home had been built like her. Reg stood up and claimed the position of handyman, claiming skills with both basic carpentry, cleaning and a bit of experience with horses. Since both women seemed to feel he was a good Christian man and a hard worker, Charlie nodded his agreement.
That left the selection of a ladies maid for Rebecca. None of the people before him had any skills in this very elite calling for the servant class. But one girl caught Charlie’s eye. She was young, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, skinny as a rail, and clearly shy. What got his attention was the way she tried to take care of herself. In this pigsty of a shantytown, her dress was clean and unwrinkled, her hair was carefully braided and combed and she had tied it back with a bit of grosgrain ribbon that was shiny with age but still carefully tended. Lizbet was what the others in the group called her. And Lizbet became the fourth servant that Charlie picked.
He gave them instructions to go to the mercantile and get a new suit of clothing each, including shoes and a winter coat, get their belongings together and report to the main house on the following day. The terms were simple. First, they had to satisfy Miss Rebecca. They had to be clean, neat and orderly, and do the work given to them. Assuming the work was satisfactory, he would pay them each a dime a day, payable monthly plus food, shelter and a new suit of clothes, including shoes, twice a year. They would get Sunday mornings and one afternoon during the weekday off to attend church and take care of their own affairs.